know love

ruins

The note begins, 'to anyone who needs hope', a simple message scratched into the wall. I ran my fingers over the immortalized text. "Always love. There is so much hurt and anger in this world you don't want to leave without love in your heart."

I liked the concept of you leaving the world, but knew that the author was in some small part - supporting the bursts of optimistic green grass that has determinedly find themselves growing in the floor of the sanctuary.

I take that back my translation is wrong. шӀэн -- щӀэн - - KNOW love. Almost a lost language it seems, even in the silence of the ruins.

шӀэн -- щӀэн "KNOW love. there is so much....."

It's amazing to think that someone would write a tome to love in a place where bombs fell indiscriminately for so long the face of the city was no longer visible. Rooms lay open to the dry air like unfinished sentences. Tables set for a meal, wedding beds now sitting in wall-less vistas. The river has torn a new course through the ruins when you look down over the valley. Without influence, the river now free to return to where it's needed.

Studying sites like these always reinforced the rule of impermanence. Our condition of being bound to aging, sickness, and death, of possessing a body that is subject to being worn and rubbed away, to dissolution and integration back into the very soil we were born from.

I wonder what this person's unfinished dreams were? Did their family make it out when they did not?

I imagine this person's son or daughter, going on to lead a quiet life in a new country somewhere. Perhaps they now hold a child's hand on their way to the first day of school. The fall colours falling leaf by leaf around them like a snow globe.

Looking down into the child's eyes, do they see a reflection? They see a person very different than they'd ever imagined themselves becoming. Despite the hardships of their life, they remember an almost forgotten voice. One that was teaching them from very early to know love.

11. October 2019